


Open Up

by Miso



Series: A War He Can't Forget [12]
Category: SCTV (Canada TV)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 15:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: Floyd never liked giving up control. At all.





	Open Up

**Author's Note:**

> oh floyd. you need HELP. like serious for real probably inpatient HELP. :c the italicized dialogue in the beginning is meant to be the words of his therapist; all of my therapists come off as condescending for some reason so if there's something wrong with it please let me know!!! in the same continuity as the vietnam series even though it doesn't focus much on floyd's war trauma. i'm trying to figure out how to re-rail this series to that! :P

_It's okay to open up to others besides me. You can't control everything. Baby steps, Floyd, but you need to try, okay? Let other people take the reins now and then. I promise the world won't end._

Baby steps. Baby steps. Floyd kept repeating it to himself. Slowly. He'd give up his need to control everything slowly. It was just that whenever he wasn't in control of a situation, things went wrong. People got hurt. People died. He'd seen it too many times during the war, during his childhood, during the time he spent in Denver after Vietnam. He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Earl because Floyd gave up control. Earl was too precious to risk losing him. Ever.

_Earl's an adult. He can take care of himself. You need to take care of you for a little bit._

Could he, though? Earl was an adult, but he wasn't... he wasn't especially smart. Earl would be the first to admit that he could be a little bit dense, but goddammit, he was too good. He was sweet and innocent and loving and nothing, absolutely nothing, got to him. He loved Floyd endlessly. Even when he fucked up, he loved him.

He just wished he could be as good to Earl as Earl was to him. He'd been trying to let Earl top more often. He loved how it felt when he could let go of his trepidation and nervousness and let the poor guy just do his job; he'd been a shuddering multi-orgasmic wreck every single time and he loved feeling Earl's breath, heavy on his neck or ghosting over his ear, and hearing him moan and gasp and whisper filthy-but-loving things to him.

But then once it was over he'd panic. How could he let himself be so vulnerable? What was the matter with him?! Real men didn't let themselves get fucked by other men! They did the fucking! He'd catch and mentally scold himself for that line of thinking, but the fears of vulnerability always lingered. Somehow, Earl would always catch on and tell him how brave he was and what a good job he did and how much he loved him. 

And he'd always hold him and rub his back and shoulders and stroke his hair and tell him it was okay and he was proud of him for letting go. Floyd always felt like he'd bared himself, physically and emotionally, afterward. It was a uniquely exhausting experience, but he liked it.

But he'd always insist on taking the protective role up again the second the opportunity presented itself. He'd pull Earl close and shield him from the big awful world, or he'd insist on being the "big spoon."

Tonight, Floyd decided, that was going to change.

As they crawled into bed, Floyd pondered how to put forward the request. If he just laid with his back to Earl, he'd either eventually get the hint or take it as a snub, but Floyd felt stupid and weak just _asking_ to be held. An excuse? What would he use for an excuse?

"... Earl, babydoll?" He reserved "babydoll" for the really bad nights. He figured it would be more than enough reason for Earl to not ask questions. Sure enough, it immediately got his attention.

"You only call me that when you're feeling really bad..." Earl propped his head up on his hand, resting on his bent elbow. "What's the matter, babe?"

"I..." Floyd chewed his lip, both in thought and to make this look believable. "I had a really bad dream last night."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't want to wake you up." He put on his best puppy dog eyes, praying it looked innocent enough. "... Could... could you hold me tonight?"

Earl smiled and pressed a kiss to Floyd's forehead. "Baby, if you want me to hold you, it's okay to just ask. You don't have to make something up." Floyd's eyes went wide and he recoiled into himself a bit. "... Is everything okay?"

"I-it's fine. Just... forget I said anything." He turned over and pulled the blankets tight around his body. "Goodnight."

Earl was quiet, then shuffled close to Floyd and pulled him tight. "Baby, it's okay to want to cuddle."

"No. I-It's stupid."

"Why is it stupid?"

"I'm not a baby. I don't need..."

"Neither am I, but I still like when you hold me." Earl pressed a kiss to the nape of Floyd's neck. "It's not a bad thing. I love you. And I want you to feel safe letting me in like this."

"... It feels weak."

"You don't think the strongest people that ever lived needed held sometimes?" Earl's voice was gentle, nonjudgmental. It was nice, not being talked down to. "It's alright."

Floyd lay silently for a bit, then sighed quietly and turned again, unshed tears in his eyes. "... You don't-"

"I don't think less of you. I don't think you're being silly or weak." Earl gripped a corner of the blankets and gently dabbed away Floyd's tears. "Don't cry. Just come here." He smiled warmly and lifted one arm, offering Floyd a safe spot to snuggle into.

Floyd took him up on the offer and curled in close, burying his face in the crook of Earl's neck. "... You smell nice," he whispered, feeling himself relax as Earl's arm draped over him, then wrapped around him protectively.

"Thanks. You're really warm." Earl nuzzled the top of Floyd's hand and kissed him there gently. "Get some shut-eye. I love you. Even if you don't love yourself."

Floyd's eyes began to flutter shut, as Earl stroked his hair gently and hummed an off-key tune. He couldn't recognize it as anything in particular. The gesture was nice enough. As his body relaxed fully and sleep overtook him, he felt Earl kiss the top of his head one last time and hug him close.

Maybe he could get used to giving up control now and then.


End file.
